heat monkey

I love to be warm.  When my thermometer points to 6O Fahrenheit, I am in a quandary over turning on a heater or not.  78 F is ideal for me.

It's true, I was in Maine for four years.  I thrived in the cold.  But cold in Florida is a bone-chilling cold.  Cold in New England is invigorating, makes you frisky as a puppy.

I sleep with blankets all year long. I rarely use the air-conditioner.  I always have a sweater handy at work.  I run fans.  This trailer is pretty well insulated.  It's cozy to open or close a window.  I relish getting into my car at lunchtime.  The heat sweeps over my skin.  It feels glorious after being vacuum-packed in air conditioning all day.

At the same time, I am not the sort who goes out to sunbathe at high noon with a bottle of oil.  I don't enjoy baking my skin.  I don't enjoy getting sweaty, either, not without a good reason.

I don't like much ice in my drinks, either.  I drink soda and water at room temperature.  Cold troubles my sinuses.  People sometimes find it freakish that I don't like ice.  They can't relate.  It is an alien concept.  If that seems odd to them how do they manage to make it in the world with such small minds?

There are other "bizarre" things about me.  I do not watch television in my own home.  I do watch movies on DVD and VHS and hear the radio news in my car.  I do not miss television at all.  There is so little that redeems it, except for shows which educate and uplift.  And there is so much else to do. I have people to visit and blogs to write.  I have work to do.  And dreams to dream.